Surprise Daddies (#1-4 Box Set)

by London James

  “Are you sure they’re Hernan’s guys?” I ask.

  “Couldn’t be anybody else,” he replies. “I own that land, and have it fenced off.”

  “Couldn’t it be kids just out joyriding with all the new snow?”

  “Could be,” he admits. “But I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Okay, what’s the plan?”

  “The plan is for you to take Stabler and get down to the bunker,” he says.

  “Call the Sheriff, Baker,” I urge. “Let him –”

  “He’ll never make it in time,” he interrupts. “This will be over by the time Pinkman gets out here.”

  As terrified as I am, I feel a steely determination permeating my soul. Baker is so dead set determined to protect me, but I feel the same. I want to protect him. Fight for him. I’m tired of being on the run and always looking over my shoulder. If we’re going to have a life together, we need to put an end to this once and for all. We need to stand and face the threats coming for us. And it’s time I help take up the fight.

  “I can help –”

  Baker shakes his head. “No way,” he says. “I’m not letting you get mixed up in this.”

  “I want to fight,” I persist. “I’m tired of being the victim in all this. If they’re coming for me, I want to fight them.”

  Baker looks at me, his eyes fierce, but also filled with compassion. He puts his hand on my cheek, and I lean into his touch.

  “Isla,” he sighs. “My job is to protect you. To keep you safe.”

  “There are too many of them.”

  “I got this,” he assures me. “I’ve been in plenty of scrape ups against tougher odds than this.”

  “Baker, I –”

  He moves his hand down to my belly and gives me a soft smile. “It’s going to be okay, Isla,” he tells me. “When we get through this – and we will get through this – we’re going to build a life. The three of us – you, me, and our baby. We’re going to build a wonderful life together.”

  His words make my heart explode in my chest. That he would claim not just me, but the baby inside of me – a baby that isn’t his – as his own makes me tremble. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and in spite of everything going on, I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face.

  “I love you, Isla,” he says.

  My eyes grow wide, and my mouth is suddenly drier than the Sahara. “Y – you love me?”

  He nods. “Crazy, I know. Insane,” he says. “But true. Very much true.”

  I throw myself into his arms and squeeze him tight. “I love you too, Baker. I really, really do.”

  He embraces me for a moment, then gently pushes me away. He motions to the monitors, and I nod, understanding.

  “Take Stabler and go down to the bunker,” he instructs. “That’s the best thing you can do for me right now. I’m going to stand a better chance of beating them if I don’t have to worry about something happening to you.”

  I hesitate, but nod and look him square in the eye. “If things are going bad, promise me you’ll get down to the bunker with me,” I say.

  “I will.”

  “Promise me, Baker Redmond.”

  “I promise you.”

  I press my lips to his and give him a quick kiss. Tears streaming down my face, I call for Stabler, who runs alongside me. We dash to the back of the house, and I open the bunker door like he showed me. Once we are inside, I close the door again and head down the ramp into the bunker. I run to the security suite down there and power up all of the equipment. I need to see what’s going on outside.

  I need to be sure that Baker is safe.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Baker

  I hear the secret door shut and hear the locks slam home, sealing her inside. Turning back to the monitors, I watch the snowmobiles zipping across the open field. By my count, I see seven of them. This can’t be Hernan’s full force. Surely, he’s holding some back.

  This is probably just a scouting mission. They want to test my defenses. So, he sends out a small group to engage me, see what my countermeasures are, and then plans for that. It’s what I’d do, and it surprises me that Hernan would think of it. Clearly, somebody is advising him in war tactics.

  That thought worries me a bit.

  But all I can do is fight the fight in front of me. And right now, I have seven bad guys bearing down on me. Handle them, then fall back and plan for the next course of action. As I watch the snowmobiles advancing, a plan is already forming in my head.

  I run to my gunroom and open up the vault inside. I grab a couple of my AR-15’s, as well as quickly put my holster on, slipping my sidearm into the leather case. Checking my magazines, then grabbing some spares that I tuck into my belt, I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Grabbing the remote from the shelf, I run to the backyard and mount the steps to the small platform that stands against the wall facing that open field.

  I hear the whine of the snowmobiles’ engines growing steadily louder as I stand there. Holding my binoculars up, I bring them into focus and confirm a force of seven approaching. I scan the land around them, looking for reserves coming in from behind, but see none. It’s just these seven. One small raiding party.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” I mutter.

  I watch as the snowmobiles draw closer and closer, my hand on the remote, my finger on the button. Just before they pass the line, I push the button. Explosions rock the morning air, sending birds to flight and knocking the snow off the branches of the trees. Two of the snowmobiles go flying, then come crashing back down in a fiery heap. The riders lay motionless in the snow, thrown far from the burning machines.

  “Two down,” I say. “Five to go.”

  The other riders, seemingly unfazed by the blast, power on. They gun the engines, hoping to avoid getting caught out by another mine. I push the second button, and another explosion shatters the air, but the riders weren’t close enough to the blast to get anything but a solid covering of powder as they race on.

  “Shit,” I say.

  They’re three hundred yards from my back wall and are coming hard. I raise the first AR-15 I’m holding and line up a shot on the lead snowmobile. I wait patiently for them to come into range.

  “Come on,” I murmur softly. “Come on.”

  The snowmobiles start to swerve suddenly, moving from side to side in an erratic pattern that makes it impossible to line up a shot. That’s okay though; they’re going to have to stop and dismount to approach my back wall. That’s almost a hundred yards of open ground that will leave them exposed and vulnerable to attack.

  The crackle of gunfire is loud, and I have to duck behind the wall as slugs start to smash into it. The wall I’m sheltering behind is reinforced with inch-thick steel plates, so I don’t need to worry about taking a bullet when I’m hunkered down behind it.

  The guns go silent, and I jump to my feet, weapon at the ready. The men are scrambling off the snowmobiles, and when my shots ring out, it sends them scrambling. I fire a quick burst at two of them. One keeps running in a zig-zag pattern, and the second drops to the ground, a crimson blossom coloring the snow beneath him. He grabs his thigh and howls in pain, rolling around on the snow.

  Another burst of gunfire has me ducking behind the wall again. Some shots are coming from the left, others from the right. They’re smart to spread out the shooters like that. But I have one more surprise for them. I just need to get a fix on their positions.

  Crouching down, I steal a peek over the wall and see the men fanning out on the snow. They’re moving slowly, all of them with weapons at the ready, all of them probably really eager to kill Isla and me. I wouldn’t put it past Hernan to offer them a bonus for the one to put a bullet in us. Sounds like how he’d incentivize his troops.

  They’re about seventy-five yards out. Close, but not quite close enough. I need them at fifty. Risking getting my head blown off, I sneak another peek over the wall and see that they’re still coming and will be at the fifty-yard mark
in a matter of seconds. Saying a silent word for luck, I push the third button on the remote and drop it into my pocket. The explosion that shatters the air is only slightly louder than the screams that follow.

  I jump to my feet and lay down a withering field of fire. One man is laying off to the side and is completely motionless. His body lay in the snow surrounded by a crimson halo. The rest of Hernan’s men are already in flight, running back to their snowmobiles. I opt to not fire on them and let them go. Somebody can hopefully convince Hernan that it’s not worth it and to let it all go.

  It’s doubtful, but I’ll hold out hope.

  “Not bad,” I say. “Not bad.”

  I survey the carnage on the field in front of me. Three of Hernan’s men lie dead in the snow. The other four are in flight. If nothing else, this will get Hernan’s attention. It’ll either make him reconsider this plan of his or make him send more. I’m betting it’s the latter because if there’s one certain takeaway from this engagement, it’s that I’m alone out here. Hernan will probably realize he’s fighting a force of one, that I don’t actually have any help out here, and will make him more determined than ever to kill me.

  As much as I’d like to say otherwise, that’s the most likely scenario that’s going to play out. But, with far fewer explosives in the field, since I had to use three of my charges – as well as the fact that I will no longer have the element of surprise with them – the scales might tip in his favor next time. Which means that I need to formulate a Plan B. Quickly. I don’t see Hernan holding off on the attack very long. It will probably be tomorrow since he’s going to want to regroup and re-plan. The odds may not be in my favor, but at least I gave him something to think about today.

  I watch the snowmobiles zip off across the field, going back the way they came. I stand there and watch for a good, long time. I also watch the land around me, just to make sure there aren’t any of his men left lurking around who are there to catch me off-guard.

  After half an hour on the wall, I see nothing and decide that the fight is over for the day. I climb down the steps and head into the house.

  I’m halfway through the living room when Isla is bounding over to me. She crashes into me, throwing her arms around my neck, and squeezes me tight. Stabler is dancing around my feet, so I kneel down and scratch him behind his ears, letting him lick my face in obvious delight. It’s as if he knows what just happened and is glad to see me alive. Truth be told, I’m glad to see me alive.

  “Is it over?” Isla asks.

  I shake my head. “Hardly,” I tell her. “This was just the opening round. He wanted to test out our defensive capabilities. He’ll be back, and it will likely be with more men.”

  A dark shadow of fear crosses her face, so I lift her chin and look her in the eye. I hold her gaze for a long moment, silently willing her to stand strong.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I reassure her. “We’re well-armed and fortified in here.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so,” I reply. “Don’t give up hope just yet.”

  She looks around and then looks back at me as if an idea suddenly occurred to her. “The storm’s broken,” she says. “Why can’t we just drive out? Get as far away from here as we can?”

  “Roads aren’t clear,” I tell her. “Another storm is coming in, and they won’t have had time to clear all the roads just yet. That’s why Hernan’s men had to take snowmobiles in.”

  She seems to fold in on herself a bit and that shadow of fear returns, though not as dark as before.

  “That’s also to our advantage, Isla,” I say. “They can’t come in by road. And the only way to get to us is through that field. We’ll see them coming long before they get here.”

  That’s only partly true, but I don’t want to scare her. If Hernan studies any topographical maps, he’s going to know he can cut across the field and approach through the woods on my flank as well as through the field. There are two points of ingress to the house, and I can only cover one at a time. I never mined the forest because I sometimes go walking out there with Stabler, and although the explosives are remote detonated, I didn’t want to risk an accident, so I left it clear.

  “If that storm hits tonight as expected, it’s going to delay him again,” I continue. “We’ll have time to regroup.”

  “So will they,” she adds. “He’ll have time to bring in more men.”

  “Perhaps. But they’re going to have a hard time getting to him,” I say. “Probably impossible actually, if the storm is as bad as they’re projecting it to be.”

  “So, we’re stranded here?”

  I shrug. “There are worse places to be stranded. At least we have cocoa here.”

  She laughs, but it’s somewhat weak and a little discouraged. I want to do something to lift her spirits, but I don’t know how. I can’t really blame her after today’s action. Having armed men actually shooting at you takes things from an abstract concept to a harsh and deadly reality. These are no longer those ambiguous ‘cartel guys’. Now, in her mind, they’re the men with guns who are coming to kill her. She’s seen them in action. They’re every bit as real as I am to her now.

  I want to take away her fear and show her that she has nothing to be afraid of. I mean, of course she does, but I want to show her that we can hold out here. That we can repel Hernan’s men and even beat them if we stand strong. All we need to do is firm our resolve and keep fighting them. Even without Walt’s guys, I believe we can beat them.

  If nothing else, today’s action only invigorated me. It honestly juiced me up in ways I didn’t expect and brought the reality of the situation home to me too. I’m the only thing standing between Isla and a horrible death at the hands of the Zavala Cartel. I’m the only one who can protect her and her child.

  I meant every word I said about starting a life together and raising that child as my own. A family is something I’ve always wanted, and I am going to have to fight to keep that dream alive. I’m going to have to fight to keep Isla and our child safe.

  And I am going to fight like hell for it. I am going to make Hernan understand that he woke a sleeping giant, and he is going to pay a heavy price for coming after Isla. A very heavy price.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Hernan

  “Three men lost,” Ramon reports to me.

  I nod. Frankly, given Redmond’s reputation, I expected the body count to be higher. It’s not like him to pull his punches. I get the feeling he knew what I was doing though – probing his defenses. Though I’m his intellectual superior in every way, I know that the man is not a moron. And based on what I read of his military file, he’s an excellent soldier and tactician.

  “He had the field mined,” Ramon says. “Watched us coming and then set the charges off. We lost two men in the first blast, and one in the last.”

  “You’re lucky we didn’t lose more,” I say.

  Ramon grimaces. “I suppose so.”

  “It was a good exercise though. Very informative and successful.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, look at what information we’ve gleaned from this.”

  Ramon is sitting at the table in my hotel room. He’s got blood on his face from a cut opened up during the attack. He’s dirty, grimy, and he smells bad. Though, to be fair, he usually smells bad. It just seems a little bit extra right now. Call it the stink of fear, perhaps.

  “I don’t follow,” he says.

  “Well, we know he’s alone, yes?”

  Ramon nods. “Seemed that way.”

  “We know he has the field laced with explosives, which means we’ll have to watch out for those.”

  “Okay,” Ramon says, obviously still not following.

  “My biggest concern in all of this was that he would have support,” I continue. “That the Marshals would have sent somebody in to help him. That doesn’t appear to be the case.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  I pace around the room with my h
ands behind my back, letting my mind work everything out.

  “That’s good news for us,” I say.

  “I don’t see how, jefe,” Ramon says. “We lost three today, so that leaves us with what, nine guys?”

  I turn and give him a predatory grin. “Actually, I’ve already had more men brought in. They should be arriving tonight,” I gloat. “Two dozen of the Zavala’s finest soldiers.”

  “Two dozen?”

  “Seems like it should be enough,” I say. “It better be enough to take out one man, Marine or not. And now we know, thanks to your scouting mission, what most of his defensive capabilities are.”

  Ramon leans back in his seat, a wide smile crossing his face, comprehension finally dawning on him. He nods and runs a hand through his hair.

  “That’s why you’re the jefe,” he says. “Always three moves ahead.”

  “Damn right,” I reply. “The only thing that’s going to fuck this up for us is the goddamn weather.”

  I stand at the window and watch the rapidly darkening clouds. Lightning lances down from the sky and thunder splits the heavens open. There’s no way to launch an attack in a blizzard, which means that if it does happen, we’ll have to wait out the storm and go the moment it clears.

  The only consolation is knowing that Redmond and the woman are out there on their own, with no reinforcements coming. My source in the Marshal’s Service assured me that it’s a clusterfuck down there, and no reinforcements are headed Redmond’s way anytime soon. It’s only because I planned ahead, and took the foul weather into account, that I have the men in place already.

  We may have to sit around this God-forsaken town for a few days, but at least I know the minute the weather breaks, we can go take care of business.

  And once that’s done, once my father is off my back about it, I can start planning his downfall and my own ascension to the throne of the Zavala empire.

  Chapter Thirty-Five